Grammar, Em Dashes, and a Cameo

As anyone who's glanced at my Twitter feed during the editing phase will know, I have a slight em dash problem. Like my other writing tics (I have a whole list), it's a problem I clear up during revision, and then I complain about it on Twitter.

Elizabeth Ditty, one of the Evil Cabal, just so happens to list improperly-used em dashes as a copyediting pet peeve. And so, to help us poor em dash addicts out, she blogged about the proper and improper use of them. Get thee to the post, post-haste, as not only is it a very helpful bl0g -- but I make a cameo.* I even have dialog! And it's quite appropriate to my character.

What are you waiting for? Get over there!

*Couldn't help myself. Had to use one.

When You Can't Stop

Okay, so the tale of the epic road trip will be continued at a later date.

Why, you ask?

Because there's only one freaking story I'm interested in telling, and that's the one I've been writing for months. This thing has pulled me in so deep that it's practically all I can think about. I'm still fulfilling my normal obligations, even having a social life, but no matter where I am or what I'm doing, I'm thinking about this freaking story.

I wrote until 3:30 a.m. this morning, and even then, I didn't want to stop.

I don't know that I've ever been so wrapped up in telling a story, in finishing it, in seeing the end. Maybe it's because I don't actually know how this one's going to end...yeah, probably. Most of the time, I at least know where I want my characters to end up, even if I don't quite know how to get there. This time I have no clue. It keeps shifting as I write, their fates as changeable as the wind.

Okay, enough with the freaking poetics.

It's almost like reading a book that pulls me in so deep I can't see outside of it, and I reallyreallyreally can't wait to see how it ends. Except, of course, I'M WRITING IT. So I have to work much harder than if I were simply reading a book.

It's almost become an obsession. I say almost because, as I mentioned above, I'm still doing other things. I'm just kinda sorry I have to do them. For instance, tomorrow I'm heading north to my hometown, and I will go to the ol' county fair. I'm excited to hang out with a friend up there, and for us to go around being snarky at everything, as has been our wont since we were little.

But I keep thinking, "I won't have a chance to write. I'll have to stop for like, a whole day!"

Even though I know that, at this point, that's probably best. A long drive, some time away to think, to let everything simmer in my subconscious. When I come back, I'll sit down at the keyboard, and it'll just flow out with no urging from me.

Still, I can't help but feel like a petulant child. It's very hard to resist the urge to stamp my foot, cross my arms, and whine, "But I want to wriiiiiite!"

I'm a grown-up, though. So I won't.*

Okay. Off to write now.


*Except for real quiet-like. *Stamp* *Cross arms* But I want to wriiiiiite!

To the Beach!

...But not primarily for the beach's sake.

Gotta get my car looked at, and the nearest dealership is in Virginia Beach. So, we'll spend the afternoon there, while we're at it.

Keeping my fingers crossed for my car. This is its last chance, since several other mechanics have been unable to figure out what's wrong with it.

Between my beloved car, and this being Week Three of the An Awesome Agent Has My Full And I Must Remain Patient And Calm EXSTRAVAGANZA!!! (AAAHMFAIMRPACE), I've got body parts crossed that, heretofore, I didn't even know existed.

And yes, I just used "heretofore".

Country Living

Listening to: Dispatch, "Water Stop"


This is why I love living in or near the woods:


Sorry the picture's so small, but if you look right in the middle, you'll see a deer. She ran through the field just as I was passing the door. A rarity, that--they usually come out at sunset. We've seen four at a time, at the most.

Another shot, just as she was returning to the woods:

That's a bit better. And here's some more wildlife, spotted on Saturday:


Yep. That's a turkey. Even living in the woods all my life, I've only ever seen wild turkeys once before, driving down my dad's road. And he lives WAAAAY out there.

Of course, seeing all this wildlife is a bit sad, too. Just two years ago, the land where our apartment complex now stands was forest. These animals have been run out of their home, and now only have a strip of forest to live in. With the rate of development down here, I'd bet that even that strip will be gone in a decade.

That's why I could never live here permanently. I would look around and see nothing but beautiful forest and wetlands being torn down and mowed over, and WalMarts, Bojangles, and million-dollar housing complexes built in their place. It's already happening, actually...I just haven't been here long enough to see it firsthand.

No, give me rural Pennsylvania any day. I much prefer to live in a place where few others want to live, than a place where everyone wants to be.

I'm funny like that.

Sweltering

Listening to: Letter Kills, "Time Marches On"

So. Where have I been?

Well, here, pretty much. Just haven't felt like posting this week. Needed a short break.

But I'm back, baby! With lots of random crap to talk about!

First of all, it is going to be REALLY FREAKING HOT today. The high is 97. That...is really, really hot. I will probably turn on the air conditioning at some point today, even though I'm not an air conditioning fan (teehee...get it? air conditioning? fan? Seriously, that was a total accident).

There are several reasons for my dislike for AC:

A. It's not so great for the environment. I know there are some things I do that aren't in the planet's best interest, such as driving a car that doesn't have the best gas mileage because it's incredibly safe and thus makes me feel safer, and also it has AWD and that's good when you live on a road that might not see the plow until late morning after five inches of snow fell the night before. So I feel like I should do something to make up for that.

B. It's expensive. Again, making up for the whole slightly-gas-guzzling car thing.

C. It dries out my contacts, and then I feel like I have an ulcer in my eye, except that I don't. That's no fun. Better than having an ulcer in my eye (this has happened several times, and it's quite unpleasant), but still. Not fun.

D. It's loud. The air conditioning units are three floors below our bedroom window, and I get to listen to them every night. Why do people need air conditioning when it's 60 degrees out, like it was night before last? Seriously. I think there might be some alien lifeforms that thrive in cold environments living in my building. Just a theory.

E. It gives me a reason to make lists. I like making lists.

But, 97 degrees...yeah. That definitely exceeds the lengths to which I am willing to go for my environment-guilt and low utility bills. Plus, extreme heat does not help with my inherent sweatiness. Btw, I have this wonderful disorder, so you can imagine how fun really hot summers are for me. Oddly, though, I still like summer more than winter. I sweat massive amounts year round, though, so really...well, I'm going to sweat no matter what.

Oh, and btw, if you think all this sweat-talk is gross or unnecessary, I'm going to have to ask you to STFU and go somewhere else. It's part of my daily life and has been since I can remember, so I generally keep people who look down on me for it out of my life. I don't need them, they don't need me.

In other news, my little sister is graduating today. Congratulations, Rach! I'm so proud of you, and I'm very sorry I can't be there to see you get your diploma. And I need to go get you a card.

Now, I must go write, and send out a query (Rather than send out five a week, I'm just keeping five out there at any given time). And shower. And go to the store to get a card. And find a new hand-blotting-dishtowel, because the one I've been using for the past few days has gotten cat-hairy.

Busy day ahead.

-Kristin

Changing Your Habits

So I went up to my usual hangout last night, and wrote about 1000-1250 words while various people came and went, stopped by to chat, and hung out. I've mentioned before that I usually handwrite my stuff first, in chunks, then transfer it to the computer.

Also, I did a crossword.

Now, let me just say, I love my hangout. I love my friends. And I love, love, LOVE handwriting. Writing is a very tactile process for me--the feel of the paper, that crisp noise that happens as you turn a page, the flow of the words as I write them. LOVE it. And writing this way also offers the benefit of revision prior to revision--that is, I tend to revise as I type, so what ends up on the computer is sort of a second draft before I even finish the novel.

So, yeah. LOVE it.

There are, however, a few downsides here.

First of all, it's impractical and costly. I've gone through at least three 3-5 subject notebooks in the past year. At least. And I buy a lot of pens, too, because I love to write with a particular type of pen.

Downside number two: I'm a smoker. Still. When I try to quit, I do okay, until I get really lonely and need to go up to the hangout to write/socialize. I'm a very social person, and that doesn't mesh well with the solitary-writer-sitting-in-front-of-the-computer thing.

Downside number three: I drink a lot of coffee while I'm there. I usually switch to decaf after a few hours, so that I don't get my old caffeine twitch and lay in bed for two hours once I get home, hearing imaginary serial killers breaking into the house. Yeah, I'm really sensitive to caffeine. It's not fun.

So, since we're moving out of state for the summer, I've decided that this is the perfect time to make a few changes. I started on Chantix--the pill that makes your brain not love nicotine--yesterday. I'm already seeing changes...I went from noon to 7 yesterday without a smoke, and I didn't even really want one. And I'll be writing at home when we move, which will be easier (I hope) since it'll be a whole new environment in which I have only one friend, who is a non-smoker. New state, new town, new apartment...new habits.

I'll try to keep ya'll* updated on my progress via the good ol' blog. Wish me luck. But more importantly, wish The Husband luck...he's the one who will be living with a lonely, nicotine-craving, slightly crazy writer.


*See? I'm already adjusting to the new environment, and I'm not even in it yet!

When the Flame Dies

Oh, it's a tragic story, and one that has been told many times before. Alas, I'm going to tell it again.

Girl writes novel. Girl, while writing novel, inevitably falls in love with novel and characters therein. Several months of joyous writing fly by, every one of them packed to the brim with sweet memories.

And then...girl finishes novel. It's a bittersweet moment, filled with elation and tears. Okay, maybe not tears, but I got a little misty. Girl edits and revises novel repeatedly.

And the love...oh, the love...it's still there, but faded somewhat, like one's favorite old shirt that has seen too many washings.

Girl starts a new novel while previous novel is with critique partners. This is when the betrayal occurs.

Girl finds herself falling for this new novel, who swaggered in with a twinkle in his eye and dirty thoughts in his mind. She can't help herself. She spends her days and nights plotting--literally--and thinking about the characters in new novel, and her adoration grows with every hour.

At the back of her mind, though, that last novel sits patiently, awaiting her return. "Please, come back to me," he whispers. "Make all the necessary revisions and start sending me out before the postage rate increases. Please....please? Did all those wondrous months we spent together mean nothing? Am I just dust and ashes now, just an old flame that has died out? I must mean more to you than that...."

But the new novel, that scoundrel, calls to her. "I'm pretty and shiny and new, and deep down, you know I'm better than that other guy," he says with a devious grin. "You can forget about him for a little while, can't you? We're having so much fun...."

Girl looks at old novel. Yes, they had a wonderful time together. And yes, he deserves a chance to go out into the world and try his best to make her proud.

Girl looks at new novel. So shiny and pretty...so sparkly. So fun. So awesome in every respect. But that old one....well, some of her loyalties still lie with him. He was good to her, after all.

With a pained sigh, she opens a document...

...and starts revising.

A Public Service Announcement

Two things* the public should know, just in case:

1. I heard voices in my head last night as I drifted off to sleep. The voices of my characters. Most people might think I'm crazy, but this is a good thing. If they're in my head, then I must be in their heads. Still, it's a bit crazy-making.
   
   
2. I'm totally head-over-heels in love with my protagonist's love interest/sort-of-enemy. Like, every time I write about him, I melt. It's frightening when you fall for a totally fictional character that no one has ever really met, who is the product of your own mind. Or, looking at it that way...maybe it's entirely natural. No matter what, though, I feel the urge to swoon whenever he walks into the fictional room or knocks at the fictional door. That can't be entirely normal.
   
   
3. These things are all good things, because I need the distraction right now.**

That's pretty much it. Now I'm off to swoon and melt, so as to get the voices out of my head.

*Well, maybe two things. I make no promises, because three is such a magic number. I may not be able to help myself.
**See. Told you I couldn't be trusted. Why would you trust someone who hears voices and lays dying at the feet of someone she completely made up? You should really know better.

The Insomnia Returns...

Listening to: Less than Jake, "Mostly Memories"

Well, I guess I won't be taking Ambien anymore. My doc only prescribed it last month, after a long bout of insomnia left me frazzled and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I thought it was a freakin' godsend, and I really loved that I could fall asleep without laying awake for five hours. Yeah...that was nice.

It got me into a nice sleep schedule after about a week, and I started falling asleep quickly without even taking it. Good stuff! I took it again Monday night after laying awake for an hour, fretting over family stuff.

Then I read that it carries a risk of, of all damn things, sleep-driving. Now, I wouldn't be terribly concerned if I didn't have a history of sleepwalking. I probably haven't done it (that I'm aware of) since I was about thirteen. One of my favorite sleepwalking stories involves my mom, drawn by the sound of running water in the bathroom at some ungodly hour of the night, discovering me just about to climb into a very hot shower. In my pajamas. Asleep.

I used to worry that I would sleepwalk my way into traffic or something, but I never imagined that sleep-driving was a worry. That and, according to the article, sleep-sex, sleep-food-preparation-and-consumption, and sleep-dialing*. Imagine those phone calls....

I can certainly live without sleep drugs, although I'm sure my time spent laying awake in bed, elbowing The Husband in the ribs to stop his snoring, will once again increase.

Yeah, I'll take that over hittin' the highway in my sleep, any day.



*My freshman year of college, I had a conversation with a friend, on the phone, while asleep. I had fallen asleep watching Liar, Liar, and I proceeded to tell her that I was--I'm not joking, here--a lawyer who couldn't tell lies. In that case, however, she called me and I answered the phone in my sleep. I have no memory of the conversation, but she called me the next day and told me all about it--she'd spent the intervening time worrying that I'd developed some grievous mental illness that caused hallucinations.

Professional Decision Makers

One of my friends recently said, "Writers are professional decision makers." He got the quote from somewhere else, not sure where--but it's true no matter where it originated. Every word, sentence, paragraph, scene, chapter break...whose POV do I use here? What's going to happen next? What's her motivation? Is it strong enough to make her do that? Should that character die?

Decisions, decisions, decisions. Some of them easy, some of them not. And in some of them, you don't get any say, like when a character does something you didn't plan for...and you realize it's just what they were supposed to do.

After last night, I'm realizing that revising and editing are very much the same as writing. The difference is that you can't ignore the questions and say, "I'll worry about it when I revise...."

Most of the decisions are smaller-scale, of course...Should I break apart those two independent clauses into two sentences? Should I move this scene? What's that damn word I'm looking for? Should I back off on the foreshadowing? Should I take out that adverb, or leave it there?

In short: erg.

And making so many decisions can be exhausting. I was brain-dead after 45 pages last night. I never wanted to think again.

And this morning, just like when I start writing something, I can't wait to get my grubby little hands on it. I'm approaching the middle/muddle, during which I'm going to have to make MANY changes, some of them big ones that require a great deal of thought. And yet, I can't wait.

Have to edit!

-Kristin B.